jeremyrandall / blog /

Marriage equality

I was working downtown in 2004 when Gavin started issuing same-sex marriage licenses. I always regretted not running up to City Hall to watch the marriages at that time.

On Tuesday we picked up a picnic lunch and went over to City Hall to watch a bunch of couples tying the knot and coming out the door to a crowd cheering and applauding. It was such a happy scene, and we wondered how anyone could be against committed couples getting married?

Then a walk, a nap, another walk, a nice dinner at a little French Bistro and a cable car ride. A special day, to be sure, but, in a way, just another day here in San Francisco.

Muni madness

Muni seems to be on the fritz lately. I’ve been riding the N-Judah a couple or few times a week as of late, and the trains are breaking down, the schedules aren’t being met and the crowding is heavy. I’ve also noticed that the NextMuni displays have been showing “ghost” buses and trains; the sign will say “arriving” and nothing arrives.

Postal

The Post Office did an interesting trick last week. Apparently they changed some of the drivers around, and they were leaving package notes from the wrong pads; folks were being notified to pick up their packages from Post Offices across town instead of their local office. I know of Sunset residents getting Pine Station notices, and Geary residents getting Sunset notices. The packages were, in fact, right where they were supposed to be. The woman at the Sunset Station on 22nd apologized for the mix-up, then started laughing: “You all went all the way to Pine Street? The parking is terrible over there!” We actually took a train and walked.

Outdoor lunch

It’s been hot here the last couple of days. Makes it less appealing to go for lunchtime walks, though I’m trying to get in some walking time after the sun sets and it starts to cool down a bit. The warm weather did make for a nice outdoor lunch on the patio at a mid-range sit-down Mexican restaurant this afternoon. I don’t think there are a lot of “proper” Mexican restaurants here, since there are so many take-out taquerias. The food was good, though a bit pricey. And they looked at me in mild horror when I asked for some sour cream to go with my fancy tacos.

Life wants

What do you really want? That’s the questions posed lately to me about life, jobs and the future. That question seems hard to answer. What do I want? What do I need? I have so much, do I need more, or just something different, something new? I love change and hate change; it’s exciting to do something new, and it’s scary to do something new. I’m trying to think of the right cliche here (yes, I do like cliches; I think they’re an easy and effective way to tap into the group conscious)… lemonade from lemons, sailing with the current, playing the hand dealt. No, I think it’s more zen than that. Life is difficult. Life is dynamic. Life is amazing. Yes.

Networks and firewalls

I have a love/hate relationship with the Cisco PIX and ASA firewalls. They are good, solid, full-featured, well-supported devices. And their eccentricities and nuances sometimes drive me crazy. Partly my own fault, I suppose, for designing weird network schemes in my test lab, simply for my own amusement. That being said, I’m using one for IPSec remote access VPN connectivity to my home and test lab. And I’ve recently set up a Cisco VPN Concentrator at work, a “similar yet totally different” device which is providing rock solid remote access to the office. Both reliable and persnickety (like me?).

Sailing

We managed to get out for some sailing last weekend. It was blowing hard in the slot and we had a time of it, even with a reefed main. But docking at Angel Island and enjoying the summer feeling in Ayala Cove is always a treat. Even if we had to endure the slot again to get back. I love steady wind with calm water, like when we’re behind Treasure Island (Sailing Blog).

Still here

I’ve lived here long enough to sometimes forget to look around and see. But then I remember to remember.

I try to update this blog at least once a month, and sometimes it happens a couple times a month. That has been the right balance for me here and I like it that way.

I missed April.

I was trying to think of what to write all month. Another abstract descriptive story of cable cars and windy San Francisco nights? Generalized tales of the people in my life? Which servers and operating systems I’ve been playing with lately? Working hard at my job? The weather, which is always of interest to me?

Not sure. This entry is one of those exercises in simply writing for the sake of writing. And, of course, so this blog has been updated within about a month. Sans April. Just taking action for the sake of taking action is perfectly reasonable to me. In fact, it’s a great tool.

Life is rolling along, complete with new challenges and changes. I’ve been walking a surprisingly navigable line between confidence and fear, new and old, changes and comfort. Yes, there are extremes, but I believe today’s extremes become tomorrow’s day to day life, and I like that a lot. To me that is growth.

All here at home, my place in the world, with the fog rolling over the hills, the Muni trains running in the tunnels, the tasks on my to-list making me tired and the soundtrack playing in the background with the sub woofer dialed way down so as to not disturb the neighbors too much.

Years ago, my friend Elvispope moved to New York City. I talked to him after his first week there and asked how it was going. He said that he had done this and that, and that he had immediately obtained a library card.

When I was a kid the library was a second home. It may have actually been a first home, some of the time. Amid the raging chaos in my young home life, the library was a safe place, a warm place, an inviting place. And it was filled to the rafters with books, of course. My parents were readers, and the importance of literacy was instilled in me at a very young age.

I would go to the library and seemingly spend entire days there, from opening time to closing time. It was across the street from the elementary school and the front double doors opened at an angle to the street corner. I think the doors were a worn brown and the building was an older-style beige stucco. I suspect it was built in the 1920s, it had that “old enough to be old but once was new and beautiful” look.

Inside there were two wings, and in one of those wings sat a claw foot bathtub. It had been painted blue on the outside, while still white on the inside, with a wooden mast propped through the drain hole, and a small white canvas sail rigged to a thin boom. Yes, it was a sailing bathtub! And it was filled with pillows and stuffed animals and various soft and cushion-like things.

I was the captain of that vessel many a day, the sail rustling above me as I lay there on the soft stuff and read stacks and stacks of books. I’d get up occasionally to get a new book or to use the bathroom. There was a whole series of mystery books where the answer to the puzzle was written reversed and backwards at the end; I would carry the books into the bathroom to read them through the mirror.

I don’t remember the exact details of my comings and goings; whether I rode my bike (which was likely the case) or walked. I’m not sure if I was there after school or just on weekends. I do know that while it provided comfort and a lot of learning, the library was also a place to escape and hide from the difficulties of my reality. Everything has mixed blessings, I suppose. There was a lot of burden in my young life; someone had to take care of things around the house when those who were tasked with the job couldn’t be relied upon to perform, or even to show up. But for awhile on some days, I had a time and a place to be the captain of my imagination and to feel a little bit safer.

A few days ago Subby and I were out for a walk, talking and enjoying a crisp clear afternoon. We stopped at the beautiful SF Main Library; she was picking up a book that was on hold for her, so she could take it home and read it with her partner, MDT (I think it’s unbelievably cute that they read together). The library’s first floor was recently remodeled and she showed it off to me with barely contained excitement.

Over the years, as my life and work have dictated my digital existence, I haven’t been much of a library patron; I feel sort of ashamed to admit that. I’ve bought umpteen zillion books of my own, and given away most of them to keep my library from getting as big as the public one. I love books and I have to remember that I don’t need to own every book that catches my fancy, that I can read them and let them move on to the next person.

Or I can borrow them from this amazing library here in my amazing city. I was impressed by the automated checkout, the email notifications when books are due, and how much cool stuff they have.

I’d love to say that I checked out War and Peace and read it clean in an evening; I didn’t. I borrowed some DVDs, including the first season of Taxi. I hadn’t seen it in years, and I don’t know if I ever saw the first episode before (it’s brilliant).

Taxi was on TV at night back then (the theme, “Angela,” was the first song I ever had recorded on a cassette tape), back in those early days, when I’d come home from reading in my bathtub sailboat, check on the apartment, make sure everyone was accounted for and hope that I’d have chances to get back there again on other days, during the calms between the storms.

It’s 2008!

For the last day of 2007 I went to work, met up with a lunch group, came home, did laundry, called someone and made a date, took a nap and then took the bus to the Castro area to attend two New Year’s Eve parties. I met some fun new folks and marked the new year with close friends and an intimate late night. Then I walked home, enjoying the exercise, the cool breeze and the city lights. The Transamerica building is blinking its regular red light; the multicolored holiday light has been retired until next year. The holidays are over (except for having today, New Year’s Day, off, I suppose) and it’s time to dive back in to the regular day to day.

2007 was a big year for me; I have a lot of optimism about 2008. Out with the old, in with the new, positive choices, making progress.

On another note, my Mac is at the Apple Store getting a new hard drive, under warranty. I hope it’s back soon!

The days have turned cold and short. The air is chilly and the sun is setting at some ridiculous hour, maybe 5pm? I was on BART this evening coming back from working on the boat in Alameda, and as we sped along the tracks the darkening sky turned shades of muted purple and burnt orange. I find myself noting the progress of my life by the seasons and the sunlight. This many seasonal cycles since I moved to this apartment; that many went by when I was at the last apartment. But over time they blur some. I don’t remember the rains and the sunlight in the same detail from five years ago, or ten.

Today was a day of time to myself, time to think things through, time to not make any plans with deadlines [if my boss happens to read this, yes, I did spend some time this weekend tweaking the VPN, as I promised I would]. Today was a time to just let the day itself provide the flow to me; usually I am driven by the entries on my calendar, the days becoming collections of scheduled pearls connected with strings of sleep that are usually too short and thin to support them all.

I walked down to BART and took the train across. I walked to Alameda. I stopped for lunch and then walked to the marina. I ran the engine, charged the batteries, flaked the sails, hosed everything down, checked the bilge and sea cocks and enjoyed the clear afternoon air. Some other sailboats were out, flying their 150s and spinnakers in the light winds and gliding across the calm water. I walked back to BART. I rode back across. I dragged my weary self up the hill to my apartment. The radiator is on, the space is warm, the music is playing, the dinner has been consumed. I’m online, reading, adding friends to the social networking sites and pondering. I’m writing here and soon will write in my private journal as well.

The last couple months have been so busy in so many ways, always filled with community. My community is my chosen family. The Bent and Primal parties were a blast, with friends that mean the world to me. Another training cycle ran its course over the last couple months. Friends are everywhere. I’m so fortunate to have so many wonderful relationships in my life, even if I feel sad when one goes awry for awhile. I simultaneously have better boundaries while also being so much more open; I’m making better decisions.

So another Sunday night. The laundry is in the machine, the groceries are put away, the checkbook is balanced and the calendar has been updated. Who knew being a grown up would be so delightfully outrageous while being infinitely more manageable?

Here are a couple cool items from DWR, both of which are thin, vertical and unique:

Image: Design Within Reach

The bookshelf holds books horizontally on thin shelves; once it’s full the shelves basically disappear and it looks like a huge freestanding stack. I like the coat rack’s design which seems both clean and complicated to me. I’m thinking the bookshelf may fit by the closet and the coat rack could, of course, go by the front door.

My place is feeling very cozy with the new love seat; I chose a bold color and it works quite well. Some of my walls are a fairly bold color as well, which seems to change throughout the day as the outside light changes. I keep looking for new pieces that might work, but then I have to remember that this space is basically filled now. A new and more attractive ceiling fan would be great to replace the existing one. And the old-school track lights in the kitchen are ready to be updated.

I’m on the lookout for some wall shelves that will fill this weird “nook” in the corner of my kitchen. It’s 24 inches wide by 16 inches deep in a back corner, and is basically wasted space right now. Since it’s not visible from the rest of the room, I am going to shelve it all the way to the ceiling to create a pantry and storage area. I’d like to cook more and I need a more accessible pantry-type space. I think I’ll have the specifics figured out soon.

I’ve had a nice weekend. I had time to rest and do chores during the day on Saturday. I went to an adult-themed party with some friends Saturday night, where I met a lot of wonderful new folks and had a great time. This morning one of my sisters was in town with a friend, so we all met up for brunch and catching up. Then more chores, some exercise, more rest and getting ready for the week ahead. Once this last load of laundry is done, I’ll be all set and can go to sleep. I have a busy week ahead, working by day and being social by evening. It’s a nice balance, as long as I get enough sleep!

Update: I ordered the book Apartment Therapy: The Eight Step Home Cure for more design ideas. I suspect my philosophies on space, flow and lack of clutter will mesh with the book’s philosophy, “how to create a home that works for you — physically, emotionally and spiritually.” The Apartment Therapy site/blog has been a great source of ideas and examples of others’ designs.

Image: Amazon / Apartment Therapy

I’ve been listening to a lot of music lately. I’ve never been one of those people that sits around with a group of people talking incessantly about bands and songs; music has always been more personal to me. I don’t get any pleasure from analyzing songs with people, I much prefer to say, “hey listen to this new song/band I found; I think it’s neat” (yes, I actually say the word “neat” because, well, I like it). Since I got rid of the TV I’ve been buying more music than I used to over a given period of time.

I was looking at this stack of blank CDs on my desk at work today and thinking about the name, “compact disc.” Such amazing technology in the early 80’s. I only owned a few actual records that I inherited from God-knows-where; once I was old enough (teenager) to scrape together some funds I started buying CDs. I had a couple of those big binder things stuffed full of them. One was “high school music” and the other was, for lack of a better term, “my twenties music.” I still have one of them. The other, as far as I can tell, didn’t make it out of the apartment of an ex and I never tried to ask for it back; I suspect they got thrown out. That makes me sad, but life goes on. I’ve learned that holding on to things is never as rewarding as just remembering they were there. Plus, I can’t remember the last time I actually listened to an old CD anyway. I’ve been an iPod user for awhile now; the music is purchased with mouse clicks and gets backed up to a second hard drive. I guess I’m keeping up with technology pretty well; I text people from my [cute] cell phone, after all.

I was reading the blog of an old friend from high school. Actually I guess I could say the blog of two old friends from high school. The two of them met when we were freshmen or sophomores and have been together ever since. They have a baby now and, despite my lack of child-rearing interest, I find it cute and moving to see how their family is doing.

Thinking of them made me think of Tommy, another high school friend. He was killed early in Bush’s war; the guy never saw his thirties. I went back for his funeral and our high school named their stadium for him. Just a tragic situation. He and I used to sit around for hours and hours listening to Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon, a CD that I asked for, and was actually given to me by my rather progressive grandmother.

We’d listen to that album all the way through and talk about how the way it felt must have been like getting stoned, which neither of us had [yet] tried. I’d go with friends to see Floyd laser shows. I would listen to Dark Side of the Moon alone in my room. If I heard one of those songs on the radio in the car I would turn it way up. It was just so visceral at a time when I didn’t yet have many life experiences of my own. I even tried listening to it while watching The Wizard of Oz though I didn’t find it all that impressive.

I have no idea where my copy of that CD is today. It may be in the missing binder, it may be in the back of a binder that I still have, out of order, lost, quiet. I could just go on to iTunes and buy the album again, but for some reason I haven’t. I will, sure. Eventually.

Those old records had art on their covers, of course. CDs had art on their covers too. The downloaded songs include digital versions that pop up on the screen while the music is playing. There’s a certain continuity there which I like. It’s not about the packaging, it’s about the sight, the sound and the feel, as it always has been. For me it’s about memories, of building soundtracks into periods of my life and then coming back later to hear those memories anew.

Some bands I’m into right now: Tosca, Mindtrap, Cantoma.

That’s all for now.

I’ve done a bit of rearranging of my web site. This blog is in the same location, but it’s no longer serving as the main page. That has been moved to the wiki, with appropriate redirects and auto-refreshes leading there. It occurs to me that this overall site has been in existence for quite awhile now; it’s like a house that I just keep adding new wings on to and changing where the front door is. Not to mention all of the rooms that are hidden away at the end of long hallways, and the stored files and trinkets from years ago neatly cataloged in the basement. Is the analogy making sense?

April was a busy, fun, active, scary and difficult month. I’ve been working quite a bit, ejoying many social activities and feeling vaguely guilty that I’ve barely been sailing this year. April includes an anniversary of a family member’s death, for which I take some time off and do something meaningful to mark the occasion and remember that person.

Geez, it’s already halfway through May. Wow.

So I have been TV-free since ~April 23rd. And I am, in fact, finding that that prompts me to go out and do more things in the evenings. I basically plan or find something to do each night after work. On nights when I do just come right home, I listen to music (I bought a ton of new music), read, clean my place, rearrange things and generally be more productive than I would be with a television. So it has all worked out the way I wanted it to. I did watch The Office at a friend’s house the other day; I do miss that show.

Losing TV is just part of an ongoing self-improvement tack. I gave up diet soda to reduce my sodium intake; since I’m not a coffee drinker, I went ahead and gave up caffeine as well. I didn’t realize just how much caffeine I had been taking in; the first three days without it I could barely stay awake. I was literally sitting in my cube at work trying not to nod off. Once I got past that, it has been fine. I’ve been drinking a lot more water and I can feel the difference.

It’s been a busy time for me lately. The main thing is that I’ve moved. I’m now living up toward Nob Hill. In my nearly ten years in San Francisco, I’ve lived in the Outer Sunset, then in two different places in Noe Valley, then in a highrise in the Civic Center area. Now I’m back in a traditional flat partway up the hill.

Over the years I’ve consistently moved from less dense to more dense neighborhoods. Today my walk to and from BART each day looks like something from the quintessential San Francisco portrayed in movies and on TV. I pass tall buildings and mid-rise Victorians and Edwardians. I go up and down steep hills with cable cars clanging past. I pass stores and clubs, big and small. I can either pass hordes of tourists or stroll down slightly quieter streets depending on which corners I turn at.

I’m much more centrally located now. It’s a short walk up to the top of Nob Hill or down to Polk Gulch. Russian Hill, Chinatown, North Beach and the Tenderloin are not far away. Views of the bridge or views of the bay are close at hand, though, unfortunately, not right outside my window. I feel lucky to still be here in this city that I’ve always wanted to live in, and I plan to stay awhile and continue to put down roots.

I’d like to see if I can develop a better “voice” for this blog.

Lately I have been underwhelmed by the “safe” and “noncommittal” writing that I have been doing here. Don’t get me wrong, I really am a fan of exploring San Francisco Parks, but I feel very little passion when I write a magazine-like blurb about big trees and hiking trails.

If you read back far enough you’ll find some major time gaps and a lack of theme that goes back several years. The entries prior to 2006 were lifted from the journals and blogs I kept before this one; the deeply personal items did not make it to this public space.

I keep a private journal elsewhere, a traditional diary of sorts, which allows me to explore a lot of my thoughts and feelings while maintaining a sense of privacy. On this site it is a challenge for me to balance sharing too much about my day to day life versus writing in a way that shares virtually nothing of my real feelings and opinions. I tend to do the latter, which ends up being rather lifeless.

I would like to achieve a better balance.

Very few folks read here at the moment, but if anyone has comments, I’d love to hear them.

December 20, 2005, ~7am PST:

Images Copyright Jeremy Randall.

Images Copyright Jeremy Randall.

So my coworkers thought it would be hysterical to cover my cube in cat pictures and wrap my chair in bubble wrap!

I’m moved in to my new place, and have been getting settled for about two weeks. It’s strange to be living alone again. I don’t post much about my relationships here in this public forum, so I’ll just say that I am single again for the first time in a few years.

Here’s the view from my balcony:

San Francisco is such a great place. I feel quite fortunate to be living here.

I really like the way the rust colors came out, with the light sky and dark water above and below, respectively.

I went for a relaxing bike ride around the neighborhood, and snapped a few pics. This one is at the corner of 24th and Dolores, a few blocks from our apartment:

I was kind of worn out, so I didn’t ride anywhere particularly challenging. Sometimes it just feels good to get outside and see what the neighborhood is up to.

This morning I spent an hour getting a massage and an hour and fifteen minutes floating in a sensory deprivation tank. This scores highly on the “trying new things” scale.

Somehow an item was accidentally sold to me at Long’s. One of those plastic shower cap things. It was only $.49 so I’m not going to return it. The best thing about it: “Bouffant Size!”

I’m updating this from the Berkeley Public Library. Couldn’t resist. The title of this post is just one I randomly selected from the browser’s “history” that other folks have typed in.

After receiving the letter informing me I owed the Library something along the lines of a gazillion dollars in late fees, I reluctantly brought the book in and asked if we could work something out.

“Don’t worry,” the guy said, “it’s just five bucks.” Cool, I’m not a library criminal anymore.